


"we're not done." (18+)

by royalsunshinehotel



Category: Lion (2016)
Genre: Breeding kink?, F/M, Pregnancy, it's smut, oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29829900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalsunshinehotel/pseuds/royalsunshinehotel
Summary: Saroo and you have some catching up to do.
Relationships: Saroo Brierly/Reader, Saroo/Reader
Kudos: 1





	"we're not done." (18+)

“YN, I know when something’s wrong.” Saroo couldn’t keep his voice even, he’d barely gotten back from India, and now he has to pick a fight with his girlfriend in your kitchen. Something was wrong and it was driving him insane. 

“Saroo, don’t start.” You’re two seconds from willfully breaking a plate to distract him. You knew it wouldn’t though, he’s too single-minded for such things. 

“No, no I won’t.” He straightens up to his full height and your mouth goes dry. “Something’s happened when I was gone, I just want to know what it is.” He means it, he truly does. 

“Why?”

“You’ve been dealing with so much,” Your voice get’s high, bare feet turning cold on the tile of your kitchen floor, “I’m not going to put this on you.”

“YN, you let me traipse around the world looking for answers,” He waves his hand vaguely, with a half smile, “you can put anything you want on me.” You want to. You really do. You’re being illogical, throwing a fit when the actual issue isn’t that bad. 

He’s keeping his voice low because he’s a mature adult, you can’t. 

“Because I’m scared!” You’re at full volume, snapping at him. He flinches.

“You don’t have to be!” His voice stutters slightly, trying to keep the aggravation down. This is what he’d been afraid of. He’d been gone too long and you wouldn’t trust him anymore, you’d leave him for someone else, just like you were going to do now.

“Just tell me what it is.” He’d figure out how to get over losing you, just like he figured out everything else. 

“I can’t.” you huff as you rush out of the dining room, Saroo right behind you. You should rip the band-aid off, but you don’t have the guts. You’d taken the test the day after he left for India, and you’d been sitting with the results for months. 

You need to tell him, but you don’t have the guts. He deserves more. 

“Go away! I’m tired. ”You swipe the air by his face, as if you were getting rid of a pest. You weren’t tired. You missed him, you missed him so much it hurt, but you couldn’t face him. What a joke. 

He huffs, letting the annoyance get the better of him, reaching a large, warm hand around your neck and pulling you to him. His thumb tracing your jaw as he proceeds to back you into a wall. You’re trapped. 

The kiss was scalding, months of pent-up emotion finally being let out. You didn’t pull away, which gave him a small comfort, so he had to try another tactic. Saroo was trying to rebuild what you had before, so why not use the same tactics? 

The bedroom was only a few paces away, door wide open. 

“Face down, now.” His voice is low against your ear, hands wandering over your sweet yellow sundress. You shake from the contact, this isn’t going to go your way, and he knows it. When you first started seeing Saroo, you’d settled into a dynamic quickly, and he knew you wouldn’t upset the balance. 

You take shaky steps, feeling his eyes on you as you get through the threshold of the bedroom. 

He doesn’t push you, he directs you firmly down, unzipping the back of your sundress, and pulling it off of you. You go for his gray shirt, tossing it as far away as you can. God, you missed him so much. 

But anxiety settles on your skin.

It’s over, you’re finished. He’d gotten quite a few secrets out of you this way, but it’s going to be different this time. 

You’re not going to tell him, you’re going to be strong.

Your mind flashes to the night before his flight to India, where he’d had you 7 times, and you’d blacked out 7 times.

That night where he was fucking you like he hated you, and kissing you like you were his. 

The two of you had barely exchanged “i love you”, but that had been the first night you’d gone at it without protection. The way he’d kept staring at the mess he made, as if he wanted to take a picture of what he’d done to you. He’d joked that he didn’t want to leave. But he had to.

You resent yourself for a moment, how much of a slut you were for him, but it’s a little too late to feel any shame.

You can’t be strong, you’re going to break. 

He takes a hand, shifting your hair from your neck, and giving your skin a sweet kiss before pushing into you. 

“Missed me?” He starts to move, supporting you through the harsh pace, hand on your hips, other hand around your neck.

“You have no idea.” You’re whining, same as always when he’s got his hands on you. You’re lying by omission, and he can tell by your racing pulse. He has to be determined, he’s going to get it out of you one way or another. 

Saroo takes his hand to your lower stomach, feeling himself in you. Fuck. 

God, he needs to focus. He was doing this for a reason, what was he trying to ask you again? 

You’re getting close, skin getting unbearably hot, and he doesn’t want to let go, but it’s too important. 

Saroo wants to tell you that he’s torturing himself as much as he is torturing you. He has to. You get so closed off sometimes, this is the only way to break through. 

It’s a win for him, but you guys should be able to talk things out too. 

He pulls out completely, grip on your neck releasing, “Tell me what’s wrong.” He leans forward into your shoulder blades, the tickle of his beard adding to your pain. It’s too cold without him.

“Saroo please!” You whine, reaching a hand up to cover his. You feel your eyes go wet as you collapse without him. He always does this and it always works. You were going to break.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” His voice is lower, softer from behind you. You’re crying. You never cry. A prickle of fear hits him. What if you’re sick? What if you’ve killed someone and were going to jail?

“I’m pregnant!” You practically scream, the words hanging in the room. You’re pregnant. You’d never actually said it out loud before

You hear his breath hitch from above you as you shrink into the mattress, trying to disappear. But you can’t, not from him. 

You feel Saroo breathe for a moment, breath sending shivers through you, despite the humid night. 

“Pregnant.” He presses the word into your back, letting his nose graze you softly. You weren’t going to leave him, you’d be together forever. You were already everything to him, and he needed to let you know. 

He picks you up quickly, your head spinning, an involuntary whine escaping you as he sets you back up, spreading your legs further apart than before. 

Saroo’s mind had gone blank, pushing back into you with a ferocity you recognized well, and had missed dearly. The force of his impact makes your vision go red, the pressure on your spine overwhelming.

Since the day you’d met Saroo, you knew you’d let him play with you however, whenever he wanted. That’s it. You deserve it, he does too. There’s a small part of your brain that finds anticipation in being used by him. It feels like seconds, you wailing and letting out strangled cries every time he grinds on your cervix, merciless, but you love it as much as you love him. 

You clench down around him harder than you ever have before. He appears not to care, thrusting harder and faster through your orgasm until he empties into you, hands over you as you throb. it’s your fault, he thinks, you take him too well. 

Plus, it’s not like it mattered.

There’s a pause in the half-lit room where all you can feel is his breathing on you. Saroo had a hell of a year, trying to get home, and now this? It was going to be too much for him, you’d have to deal with this yourself. But the concept of handling this yourself was too much. You cry a bit more. 

You’ve shoved your entire face into the pillow, letting your frayed nerves recover, face wet. Maybe it was the new hormones, but everything was heightened, too overwhelming. 

“I’m pregnant.” Your voice was muffled.

“Say it again.” You faintly feel his hand on your neck, slowly pulling your face out of the pillow. He backs off, carefully rolling you onto your back. Your eyes are screwed shut, arms crossed over your chest, as if you’re bracing yourself. 

“Two months.” He pulls your arms away from your chest, starting in on you there too. The contact makes your heart skip as he bites and sucks at you. 

“Do you want to be pregnant?” He’d become used to disappointment. This would hurt. It would hurt less with you in his mouth. He starts in on a nipple sucking harshly, noting how dramatically you reacted, skin getting hot under his teeth.

He could work with this, he’d be taking full advantage of this sensitivity. 

Saroo slides his large warm hand massaging the other, turning harder under the rough pads of his fingers. He moves his other hand between your legs, feeling you damp and ready for him again. He’d be taking full advantage of this as well, if you wanted him to. 

Saroo thinks, for a moment, about the effect you had on him. You’d been friends a few weeks before you started seeing each other. He’d been so obsessed with finding his family, and now all he could think about was you. He had you. You’re his family now too.

“Please say yes,” He thinks as he breathes into your shoulder. His heart is thumping in his ears. Saroo can see the rest of his life for the first time, and it all hangs on you. 

“Yes.” Saroo’s mind races out of his control. 

The two of you could have a little girl, maybe one who takes after him, but he’d love it if she took after you. He’d take her to India, to meet her Grandmother, and Auntie. He imagines showing his daughter everything about where he came from, and he imagines that she loves all of it. 

And he’d tell his Mom. She’d never admit it, but he’d come across a small horde of baby clothes that she must have been collecting for years. She’d been waiting for this. He sees her and your daughter on the beach, playing in the water, just like he used to. 

He rests his forehead on yours, making you twitch and shiver under his touch. 

“Are you happy?” Your voice is small, hesitant asking the question. 

“Yes. I am.” He exhales sharply through his nose, as if to laugh.

“So what now?” You ask as he presses his face into your neck, you smile into him as he starts to run his hands over your stomach, “Should we tell people?” He wrinkles his nose at this, pressing a kiss into your neck.

“Tomorrow.” He takes his hands and catches one of your legs, putting it over his shoulder, “we’re not done yet.”


End file.
